


Glass

by iwillpaintasongforlou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Worried!Harry, a few bad words, basically harry doting on louis and the whole thing's completely canon-compliant lbr, don't be fooled it's actually not a sad piece, hurt!louis, it's just banter and doting!harry and sassy!louis that's all, protective!harry, reworked repost from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1247836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/iwillpaintasongforlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a full month since Louis' car accident and Harry's still can't let him go. There's just something about almost losing the one you love that makes you hold on for dear life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass

It’s been a full month since the accident.

The whole scene replays in Louis’ mind all the time, so he’s familiar enough with the memory to know that there really was nothing he could have done to prevent it. He was just driving in his lane, looking in front of him like you’re supposed to, and even going the speed limit for once. There was no way he could have predicted that the guy in the next lane over would fall asleep at the wheel and start drifting, just like there’s no way he could have predicted that his truck would push Louis’ car off the road and into a ditch where it would roll three times and come to rest, upside down, with Louis lying unconscious inside.

It was an accident in the truest sense of the word.

That didn’t stop Harry from losing it, though. He was in Oxford at some god-awful fashion thing at the time, and when Louis worked up the nerve to watch the video that captured him getting the news, he saw Harry’s face turn pale before it contorted with fear as he read the text message from management. He stumbled from the room without a word of explanation, only a pained little gasp.

(Nick would later tell Louis that they had to physically restrain Harry long enough to remind him that he’d need a car to get to London, he couldn’t just sprint back to his love.)

When Louis woke up in the hospital – the cut on his head was concerning enough that the doctors kept him sedated to do some tests – Harry’s was the first face he saw.  _That’s odd,_  Louis thought dazedly, _he’s got his very saddest face on. Did he mess up a solo? Why is he sad?_

The relief on Harry’s face when he saw Louis’ eyes were open was like a man lost in the desert seeing civilization on the horizon, or breaking the surface when there was no air left in his lungs. “Louis!” he’d exhaled sharply, jumping from his chair to hover worriedly over the bed.

“Babe. The fuck happened?” Louis asked groggily, craning his head around to find the sterile white walls and mass-produced décor of a hospital room.

“Don’t move,” Harry warned, looking absolutely miserable. “You were in an accident.”

“Jesus. I feel like I’ve been asleep for a decade- what year is it? Have we won a Grammy yet?”

Harry cracks a smile, just like Louis wanted, and it makes him feel better already to see those green eyes crinkle a little at the corners despite their bloodshot nature. “You were only out for a few hours,” he’s informed. “They were doing tests.”

It’s only then that Louis starts wondering how broken he is. He tries to subtly wiggle everything, only to find that everything hurts and some of it hurts a _lot._ He can’t stop himself from wincing. “How broken am I, exactly?”

“Enough that I was really fucking worried about you.”

“Haven’t replaced me in the band yet, I hope?”

Harry does that thing that he does sometimes, where he takes Louis’ joke and makes it entirely too serious because that’s the kind of sappy idiot he is. The cut scabbing over on his boyfriend’s lip doesn’t stop him from leaning over to kiss him, gently but deeply. “Could never replace you, Lou,” he whispered.

He couldn’t be convinced not to worry about Louis, because _Harry could have lost him._ He said it over and over again for the entire three days Louis was in the hospital, while he was steadfastly refusing to leave his room for more than fifteen minutes at a time, no matter how many times Louis told him he was fine.

(Zayn would later tell Louis that whenever Harry did leave, it was to stand in the lobby and make phone calls to police departments and car companies and anyone he could think of until he could find someone to hold accountable for Louis lying in that bed.)

He also didn’t take Louis’ word for it when he told Harry that he didn’t need to give up his extra pillow (his neck didn’t hurt  _that_  much) or lift the coffee carafe for him (he hadn’t broken  _both_  of his wrists) or refuse to hug him around the middle (because even bruised ribs were _not_  enough to put Louis off his touch).

Harry could not be deterred from these little gestures because in his eyes, Louis was made of glass.

It was the same reason that he hid Louis’ car keys and posted the number for a car service on the fridge when he was well enough to come home. “You don’t want to risk hurting your wrist,” he said, until the doctor cleared Louis to drive. “You can’t drive your car, it’s totaled,” he’d tried, until the insurance company replaced it. “Well there’s just really no need,” he’d insisted, right up until the day his charm wore off and Louis’ exasperation set in.

“Harry,” he huffed at last, “I can do things on my own. I’m really not that breakable!”

Harry’s brow furrowed in frustration, but he was as gentle as ever as he grabbed Louis’ hips and pulled him closer. “You are, though,” he mumbled, kissing the spot above Louis’ left eyebrow where his nifty new scar was. “You’re terrifyingly breakable.”

“No more breakable than anyone else, though. I don’t see you locking up your mum, or Gemma, or any of the other lads.”

“M’not locking you up,” he protested, “I’m just-”

“-attempting to limit my mobility?”

By now Harry was positively pouting.

“Look, Haz, I get where you’re coming from. You’re trying to protect me- but you can’t. Sometimes bad things happen, but if you try too hard to prevent them, the good things don’t get to happen, either.”

Harry seemed to mull that over, pressing absentminded kisses all around Louis’ face while he did so. Finally, he sighed. “I didn’t mean to stop you from living your life,” he murmured. “It’s just- getting that news was the worst moment of my life. I don’t want to ever think I’ve lost you again.”

“I can’t promise nothing will ever happen to me, but I can promise to be careful,” Louis murmured right back.

“Okay,” Harry nodded at last. “Okay. Your keys are in-”

“My left snow boot,” the other finished. “Yeah, I know. You’re not a great hider, Haz.” Harry scowled when Louis pulled them from his pocket and jingled them merrily. “I had a feeling I could convince you. My lunch date with Niall is in half an hour. I love you!”

“Love you too. Be careful, babe.”

“I promise.” Louis kissed him until the scowl was gone. “I’m going to go now.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to be getting in the car.”

“Alright.”

“And driving to lunch.”

“That’s fine,” Harry sighed, though Louis had already closed the door behind him. “As long as you promise to always come back.”

**Author's Note:**

> I reworked and reposted this from my tumblr, canonlarry, so if this looks familiar then there is your answer :)


End file.
